


Call Me

by OfEndlessWonder



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8674012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfEndlessWonder/pseuds/OfEndlessWonder
Summary: The three times Kara calls Cat, and the one time Cat calls her back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Huuuuuuuuuuuge thank you to Amanda for helping out with this one, despite me only starting it the day before it was due. You're the best :D

The first time Kara calls, Cat’s barely been gone two weeks.

But she has her first byline, her name in _print_ , and every time she looks at it, the paper long since crumpled by her fingers, she beams.

And she thinks of Cat.

Cat, who had given her this job, who had nurtured and moulded her into someone who might one day be able to make a difference in the world armed with just a pen and paper, and no superpowers in sight.

Cat, who had told her to go out there and show Snapper what she was made of – what Cat _knew_ she was made of – to go out there and make her _proud_.

She stares at her name and her heart beats that little bit faster, and her fingers itch, desperate to reach for her phone because when she’d first seen the article, there had only been one person that she’d really wanted to tell.

Alex and Eliza would gush and say that they were so happy for her, and James and Winn would drag her out to celebrate, and they’d all tell her that they were proud of her, but it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn’t make her soar like it would coming from her former boss.

Kara bites at her bottom lip, lifts her phone and holds it in the palm of her hand, the weight of it feeling heavier, somehow.

She hasn’t spoken to Cat since she left, hasn’t had a need to, and she _misses_ her, so much more than she thought she would.

She’d expected a message from Cat, a follow-up on how James was doing at the helm of the company that she thinks of almost as a third child, expected Cat to ask her to spy on her friend and ensure that CatCo was in capable hands.

But no text or email or call had come, and as more and more days had passed, Kara had begun to accept that it never would.

Cat was in the wind, and she’d left National City, Catco, and Kara behind.

Kara pulls up Cat’s name in her contacts list, sits there on her couch with her thumb hovering over the button, wondering if she’s daring enough to press it. She has no idea where Cat is in the world – she could be asleep, because it’s not exactly early here, but… Kara misses her voice, misses her mentor and more than that, her _friend_ , and she presses the green button before she can talk herself out of it.

She lifts the phone to her ear and listens to it ring, on and on and on, and her breath catches when she hears Cat murmur a greeting.

But it’s just her voicemail, and while the sound of her voice sends a thrill through Kara’s body, it isn’t the same as if she were actually _there_.

She hangs up without leaving a message, her courage deserting her, and she drops the phone back onto her coffee table with a small sigh.

She tells herself that maybe it’s for the best that Cat didn’t answer, that maybe Kara was being stupid to bother her over something that to Cat, ruler of an empire, would probably think a small and insignificant thing – after all, she’s been published hundreds of times (Kara would know, because she’s read them all).

She tells herself that Cat might call back in the morning, that she’s probably missed the call because she’s halfway across the world and it’s the middle of the night, and she ignores the bite of disappointment that settles in her stomach.

Instead, she curls up on her couch with a pizza and Netflix, forces herself to concentrate on _Gilmore Girls_ and to not let her mind stray to her former boss, and the hug that they’d shared before Cat had left.

The one that she can’t stop thinking about – about how fragile Cat had felt in her arms, how warm, how her fingers had dug into Kara’s shoulder, holding her tightly like she was afraid to let her go. The hug that had set her heart racing, the one that had made it hard to breathe.

The hug that she doesn’t like to dwell on, because she doesn’t want to think about what it might mean.

x-x-x

Cat doesn’t call.

Kara checks her phone that next morning when she wakes up, half-hoping there will be a message, something along the lines of a ‘ _What is it, Kiera? Do you have any idea what time you called me last night? Someone had better be dying. Or my building on fire.’_

But there is nothing, only a text from Alex asking if she wants to meet for breakfast.

Kara ignores the now-familiar sting of disappointment, buries it deep and puts on a smile for her sister, because she knows what look will be on Alex’s face if she finds out that Kara’s pining over the loss of Cat Grant from her life.

It will be knowing and wary, and she’ll ask about James and whether Kara’s devastation over Cat has anything to do with why that relationship had failed before it had even begun, and Kara’s not ready to answer those questions.

Not yet.

x-x-x

The second time Kara calls Cat, it’s rash and impulsive.

Snapper’s just given her a dressing down in-front of the whole editorial team, torn her to shreds and all but ripped up her latest article and thrown it back in her face, and tears sting at the back of her eyes as she turns and flees the room once he’s done but she doesn’t let a single one fall until she’s safely hidden within the office Cat had gifted her with before she’d left.

It’s her safe haven in a job that she adores but is _hard_ , and if Kara had thought that being Cat’s assistant would be her most difficult position then Rao, was she wrong.

Cat was mean and she could be hurtful but it was rarely just for the sake of it, there was almost always a reason behind it, but Snapper? Kara swears he does it for fun, just to see if he can make her cry, gets _pleasure_ from it and all it does is make her miss Cat more and more with each passing day.

She calls Cat with tears in her eyes and feels more build when once again, it goes straight to voicemail.

She’s emotional enough to wonder if Cat is doing this on purpose, if she’s screening her calls and ignoring any from Kara – she knows that James has spoken to her, multiple times, since she’d walked away – and this time she leaves a message.

“Why did you hire someone as mean and vindictive as Snapper Carr?” Kara asks, an anger in her voice that takes even her aback. “He’s _horrible_ , Cat. And I know you’d probably say ‘well some people would say the same thing about me, Kiera’ but it’s _different_. He’s not doing it to make me better, or to teach me, or because I’ve done something wrong – it’s because he _enjoys_ it, because he hates me, because he thinks I don’t belong here, that I only got this job because of you and not because I’m any good at it.”

Even though she knows there is no-one listening, ranting about it makes her feel like a burden has been lifted from her shoulders – she’s careful when talking to James, because he’s the boss now, and Winn and Alex don’t _get_ it because they’ve never heard Snapper spit his vitriol in an office full of people.

“I don’t know if I have what it takes to do this,” Kara admits, her voice wavering, and it’s not the first time she’s had that thought but it’s the first time she’s said it aloud. “You said that I’m smart and talented and astonishing,” Kara hasn’t forgotten those words, the way they had made her throat tight and her heart pound, “but I don’t feel any of those things right now. What… what if you were wrong? What if I can’t do this? What if I let you down?”

Her voice cracks again, and Kara takes a shaky breath, wipes angrily at any tears that had managed to fall, swipes at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I could really use one of your pep talks right now,” she continues softly. “I’ve heard so many by now though that maybe I can imagine what you’d say. You’d probably tell me to dive deeper. Or you’d give me another elaborate metaphor.” Kara’s lips quirk into a small smile, and then she hears a warning beep, knows she doesn’t have long before the message will cut off, and there’s only one last thing she needs to say. “I miss you.”

It’s quiet, barely audible, but it’s raw with honesty and her heart aches with how much she _means_ it.

It scares her, how… _empty_ things are with Cat gone. CatCo isn’t the sanctuary it once was, and Kara is almost relieved whenever she gets a call from Alex asking for Supergirl’s assistance at the DEO. She throws herself into that work, into teaching Mon-El the ways of Earth, into trying to figure out why her sister has been acting so weird lately.

The walls of this building just make her think of Cat, just make her wonder what could have been, if she had stayed – would they have gotten closer, after Kara had been promoted? Would they have become friends?

Would they have had a chance at something more?

It’s that question that Kara thinks about the most. She remembers Myriad, remembers the world almost ending, and all she’d been able to think about was the feeling of Cat, wrapped in her arms – she’d said her goodbyes and the one to Cat had been one of the hardest, and she’d been one of the faces that Kara had seen when she’d closed her eyes as she’d fallen back towards Earth, convinced that she was about to die.

Afterwards, James had kissed her, and it hadn’t set her nearly as alight as that _damn_ hug, but before Kara had the chance to figure out what any of that meant, Cat was shoving her away into an office down the hall and then running in the opposite direction, and now Kara’s just so _confused_.

A part of her – a small, hopeful part of her – wonders if maybe Cat had started to push her away _because_ of that hug, because she knew Kara and Supergirl were one and the same (Kara’s pretty sure that part is at least true, because Cat is fond of dropping hints like bombs), because she _felt_ something but couldn’t do a thing about it, not with the way things were.

Not when Kara was her assistant, not when Cat would be risking so much in taking that step.

Kara pushes those thoughts away, though, tells herself she’s being ridiculous – there’s no way someone like Cat could ever feel like that for someone like her.

She wipes at the last of her tears and puts her phone away, takes a deep breath and straightens her spine and tells herself that she can do this, she can go out there, and she can face Snapper, and she can try her best to make Cat proud.

Even if she doesn’t want to hear all about it.

x-x-x

The third time Kara calls, she’s drunk.

Really, _really_ drunk, for the first time ever in her life.

It feels… _weird_ and now that her earlier giggly high has worn off (or been slept off – Winn tells her, as he herds her from the DEO and to her apartment, given the task by Alex before she and J’onn had flown away, that she’d been passed out on that desk for over an hour before he’d woken her), she isn’t sure she likes it.

Her head spins and she groans as she falls face-first down onto her bed, kicking her shoes off at Winn’s prompting and mumbling a thank you when he sets her alarm and puts her phone on the table beside her bed along with a glass of water before shuffling out of the door.

She’s really glad they’ve finally made it past the awkwardness of him having feelings for her.

She lies there for a while but sleep doesn’t come, and after a few minutes she rolls onto her back and stares up at her ceiling, wishing she lived closer to the top of her building so that she could use her x-ray vision to stare through the roof and at the stars in the sky above.

She tilts her head towards where Krypton should be and lets out a quiet sigh, allows herself a moment of grief for her long-lost planet.

Kara closes her eyes but she still feels dizzy, and she groans and wonders why humans do this willingly to themselves – she’d only had one drink, and she kind of feels like she might want to die now that the floaty feeling has gone away.

She’s never listening to Mon-El when he tells her he has a really good way for them to spend the night ever again.

Her phone buzzes, and Kara reaches for it blindly, squints at the screen as she holds it in-front of her face, the words a little blurry and unfocused as she struggles to read them. It’s just Alex, checking that she’s okay, and Kara concentrates really, _really_ hard as she types a reply.

When she swipes off the screen she ends up on her list of recent contacts, and her eyes are immediately drawn to the shortest name on that list.

Cat.

Kara still hasn’t heard a thing, and Cat’s been gone almost three months now. Kara’s been keeping an eye on the news, wondering if Cat’s latest adventure will be revealed soon, but wherever she is in the world, she’s keeping an unusually low profile.

Kara hadn’t gone longer than a day without hearing from Cat in some way since she’d taken the job as her assistant – for two years, they’d barely been apart, and now it’s been three _months_ with no word and sometimes the weight of that loss sits so heavy on Kara’s chest that she struggles to breathe.

For the third time in those three months, Kara’s thumb hovers over Cat’s name.

When she presses down, she doesn’t know what she’s going to say if Cat, by some miracle, does pick up.

She doesn’t, though, and this time, Kara isn’t disappointed because she’d expected this, listens to the sound of Cat’s voice as she implores whoever is calling to leave a message and she’ll get back to it if she wants to, and after the beep Kara lies there for several long moments, staring upwards, the only sound her quiet breathing.

“I miss you,” she starts, and even though she’s thinking hard about making her mouth form the right words, they’re still a little slurred. “You’re avoiding me and I don’t know _why_ , have I done something, Cat? Did I wait too long before I called the first time? Did I mess up somewhere else along the way?”

She wracks her brains, tries to think of something, _anything_ that would make Cat be so standoffish when she’s had no problem getting into contact with Kara at all hours of the night on any day of the week when they’d worked together.

The only thing she can think of is her reticence in keeping her name to herself, as she’d bade Cat goodbye for the second time, on her balcony in her Supergirl suit.

The mood that night had been playful, Cat more relaxed and _excited_ than Kara had ever seen her (and that’s why she had never once considered asking Cat to stay, because she knew that this was something that she needed, that she needed to be free – that she would come back, if things were meant to be), almost teasing as she’d tried a weak attempt at getting Supergirl to reveal her true identity, even though Kara was certain that Cat already knew.

She doesn’t think that’s it, though, because Cat had let it go, so much easier than she had that first time. There had been a knowing quirk to her lips as Kara had brushed her off as gently as she could, a smirk that said ‘okay, I’ll keep playing along’, and Kara doesn’t know why that would have changed since Cat had left town.

Kara sighs quietly as she remembers that night, how close they’d been, how it had felt to have Cat’s fingertip brushing against her arm. Kara had wanted to kiss her, felt a pull towards Cat that startled her in its ferocity, and she’d flown away before she could do something stupid.

Now she wishes more than anything that she’d stayed, that she’d drawn Cat into her arms and spilled it all.

She wonders if that would have changed anything, if it’d make her feel less like instead of diving, she’s been drowning, ever since Cat had walked away.

“I just… I wish I could hear your voice. Saying something out than your voicemail message. I got drunk tonight, for the first time, and I… I’m never this reckless but I… everything’s so messed up, you know? Nothing’s the way it’s supposed to be and everything’s changing and for once I didn’t want to be in control anymore. But now I feel awful and I don’t know how you used to do this like, every night. And I don’t even know why I’m calling you when you clearly don’t want to talk to me… I guess that makes me pretty desperate, huh?” She huffs out a laugh but it’s bitter, pained, and Kara vows that after tonight, she won’t be weak enough to call Cat again. “I don’t even know why I’m still talking… I won’t bother you again.” Her throat feels tight, and when she says, “goodbye, Cat,” she feels like something inside her is breaking.

She falls asleep with her phone still held in her hand, and tears drying on her cheeks.

x-x-x

The next morning she’s relieved that she doesn’t wake with a headache and a roiling stomach, thanks her powers from sparing her from the hangover symptoms she’s well-accustomed to seeing in Alex from the many years they’ve shared a room.

Her throat is dry, though, and she reaches gratefully for the glass of water that still sits beside her bed, gulps it down and grabs her phone to text Winn a thank you and smiles when she sees that she already has a message from him checking that she’s still alive.

She showers off the smell of the bar and that godawful drink, slips into some pyjamas before padding into her kitchen, grinning when she realises that she has all the ingredients she needs to make a huge stack of pancakes, exactly the kind of comfort she needs after the night before.

She cheats and uses a little of her superspeed to mix everything together, hums happily as she ladles batter for her first pancake into the pan on the stove, and when her phone rings she reaches for it without thinking to check the caller ID, expecting it to be Alex calling to update her on the situation she’d gone to investigate last night from the DEO.

“Hey,” she answers, cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she flips the pancake with a careful flick of her wrist (the first time she’d tried she’d done it so hard that it had flown through the plaster of the ceiling in the Danvers’ kitchen, and she’d been banned from that room for a while after that). “Everything okay?”

 _“You tell me_.” Kara freezes as an all-too-familiar voice washes over her, drops her phone in shock and only just manages to catch it before it hits the floor, because Cat, _Cat_ , is calling her.

Cat is calling her at eight o’clock in the morning, her voice dry and tinged with amusement, and Kara’s heart pounds as she’s flooded with a rush of emotion – first there’s shock, then there’s amazement, relief at finally, finally hearing her voice again and lastly there’s a spark of anger because why has she left it so _long_?

 _“How’s the hangover?”_ Cat asks, and Kara closes her eyes and she can _see_ the smirk that will be on Cat’s mouth at the thought of Kara getting herself into such a state last night.

“T-the…. The hangover?” Kara squeaks, and she wishes she sound a bit more dignified, curses herself for not glancing at the screen before answering because she’s just making even more of a fool out of herself than she already has over the past few months.

 _“Yes, Kara.”_ She swallows as she hears her name from Cat’s mouth, feels her heart do a little flip inside her chest, reminds herself to keep drawing in air. _“The hangover. Judging from the amount you must’ve drank last night to leave that voicemail, you should have one hell of headache this morning.”_ Kara doesn’t answer, can’t open her mouth to form the words, and she only snaps out of her daze when she smells burning, glances at the stove to see smoke curling up from her quickly blackening pancake.

“Shit,” she mutters, yanks the pan from the stove and tips the ruined batter into the trash, switches off the heat and rests a hand against her kitchen counter and reminds herself to just keep _breathing_.

 _“Kara?”_ All traces of amusement are gone from Cat’s voice now, replaced with concern that makes Kara ache. _“Are you alright?”_ She asks, and Kara’s anger burns hot for one long moment, because –

“I didn’t think you cared,” Kara replies, tone flat, _hurt_ , and Cat sucks in a quiet breath on the other end of the line and Kara thinks she may have pushed too far. “I… I’m okay,” she tells Cat eventually, after a silence that seems to stretch on for hours.

 _“You don’t sound it,”_ Cat tells her, soft and gentle, like she really does care. _“What’s wrong? Snapper still a vindictive nightmare?”_ Kara manages a tiny laugh, abandons her pancakes and pads back over to her bed, throwing herself on-top of the covers.

“No more than usual,” Kara murmurs, and then she feels brave. “If you listened to my voicemail,” she starts, unable to keep the slight note of accusation out of her voice, “then how come you never called me back?”

There is no reply for several moments, and all Kara can hear is the sound of Cat’s breathing, even and quiet, and if she closes her eyes she can almost pretend that they’re in the same room, is surprised by the surge of want that flashes through her at the thought, because hearing Cat’s voice makes her feel like she’s flying but actually _seeing_ her would be something else entirely.

“Cat?” Kara prompts, when no response seems forthcoming, wonders if one is ever going to come, and she swallows hard when she hears a low chuckle echo into her ear.

 _“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me that before.”_ Kara’s mouth opens, ready to correct her – and then she bites her tongue as she remembers that her cape had been wrapped around her shoulders the one and only time she’d used Cat’s name to her face. _“And yet, it comes up more than once in those messages that you left.”_

“Miss Grant doesn’t seem appropriate now that you’re no longer my boss.”

 _“I will be again one day,”_ Cat reminds her. _“I’m coming back.”_

“When?” Kara hates the hope that sparks in her chest as she wonders if it might be soon.

 _“I don’t know.”_ Hope is replaced by a flash of disappointment. _“I’m rather enjoying the unpredictability of this life.”_

“Where are you?”

 _“Paris,”_ Cat murmurs, and Kara imagines Cat standing on the top of the Eiffel tower at sunset, illuminated in red and gold hues, the thought making her breathless. _“Last week it was Spain, before that Germany. Carter’s having the time of his life – I’ve never seen the inside of so many museums.”_ There’s no despair in Cat’s voice, though, only warmth, and Kara knows that she’ll be revelling in spending Carter’s summer vacation like she’s probably longed to ever since he was placed into her arms.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Kara says, and she _means_ it – she might miss Cat with a fierceness that startles her, but she wouldn’t have wanted Cat to stay, trapped in a position she was unhappy in, not when there was a whole world for her to explore. “But I wish you were coming home soon.”

 _“You can’t miss fetching lattes that much.”_ Cat’s trying for light, playful – it’s close to what they’d had that night on her balcony as Cat and Supergirl, and Kara doesn’t know what to _do_ with this.

“That would be your assistant’s job,” Kara points out, “and that’s not me anymore.”

_“Hm. And how is Miss Teschmacher getting on? And James Olsen, for that matter? Does my company still stand?”_

“You already know the answer to all of those questions.” There’s that accusatory tone again, and Kara tries her best to bite it back. “You call James at least once a week.” Once again, Cat is quiet, and Kara feels a flicker of frustration. “And you never answered me before – why didn’t you call me back? Why are you avoiding me?”

 _“I am not_ avoiding _you.”_

“Sure feels like it,” Kara grumbles, rolling over onto her side and wincing when she sees the time on her clock – she’s going to be late for work, and when there’s still no reply from Cat, Kara rolls her eyes with a huff. “Fine, don’t tell me what I’ve done. And don’t worry – I won’t call you again. Snapper’s going to stab with a pencil if I’m late for the morning meeting, so - ”

 _“You haven’t done anything wrong.”_ It’s a whisper, so quiet that Kara almost misses it, probably would have done if not for her superhearing. _“And I… I wasn’t avoiding you on purpose. I just… didn’t know what to say.”_ Cat sounds uncertain, and Cat is never uncertain about anything – it makes Kara pause, eyebrows drawing into a frown. _“Didn’t know how to tell you that I left because I was searching for something, my next big thing, but all I’ve felt since walking away is like I’m missing something.”_

It’s Kara’s turn to be quiet now, listening closely and her frown deepening.

 _“You want to know why I didn’t call you back? It was because I was scared of what I’d say. Because I miss you, too. More than I thought I would. More than… more than I_ should. _”_

“You do?” Kara can’t help but sound hopeful, and Cat’s short, bitter laugh doesn’t send her spiralling because all she can hear on repeat in her head is ‘I miss you, too’.

 _“It’s not a good thing,”_ Cat tells her, so, so softly. _“Far from it. One of the many reasons why I left was that so you could flourish without me there to hold you back. I kept you close, by my side, for far longer than I should have because I was selfish and you were far too good at your job. You need to go out there, Kara, and_ dive _, without me dragging you down to sink to the bottom.”_

“What if that’s not what I want?” Kara asks, her voice small. “What if I… what if I’ve realised while you’ve been gone that maybe you were what I was looking for the whole time?”

 _“Kara…”_ Cat starts, something like a warning in her voice, and Kara speaks before Cat can finish the thought.

“Don’t.” Her voice is quiet but _forceful_ , and she knows that she has Cat’s attention. “You think you were the first person I wanted to call after I got my first byline just because you were my boss for two years?” Kara lets the question hang in the air between them for one long moment. “You think I called you to rant about Snapper just because? You think I called you when I was drunk and lonely just because you were the first name I saw, and not because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left?”

Once she starts, it pours out of her, leaves her feeling empty when she’s done, like a weight has been lifted, but when she stops she freezes and feels panic start to slowly flood through her veins the longer Cat stays silent.

“Maybe I should hang up now,” she whispers, watching the minutes tick by, mortified, and finally, finally, Cat spurs into action.

 _“No, Kara, wait.”_ Cat draws in a deep breath, and Kara hears the sound of ice clinking in a glass, wonders when Cat had poured herself a drink. _“I… perhaps we shouldn’t be having this conversation over the phone.”_

“Probably,” Kara agrees, tilting her head. “But you haven’t exactly been forthcoming when it comes to getting into contact, lately.” It’s pointed, and she can practically _feel_ the force of Cat rolling her eyes, despite her being a whole continent away.

 _“Hotel Raphael,”_ Cat says then, unexpectedly, and Kara blinks, confused.

“Wh… what?”

 _“Hotel Raphael,”_ Cat repeats, an impatient bite to her voice. _“It’s where I’m staying until Carter gets back from his ski trip with his father on Monday. If you meant everything you just said, come and see me. We can talk.”_

“And how do you expect me to get halfway around the world?” Kara asks, and her voice wavers – half because she can barely believe that this is happening, and half because she’s sure she knows what Cat’s going to say next.

 _“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,”_ she murmurs, words tinged with an almost dangerous edge. _“If we do this, Kara, I don’t want any secrets between us.”_ Cat lets the words hang there for one long moment in which Kara doesn’t dare breathe. _“I have a balcony.”_

“I… I’ll be there,” Kara promises, even though the thought fills her with terror – terror at laying herself bare, terror at being so vulnerable, terror at the fact that, less than an hour ago, she was half-convinced that she’d never speak to Cat again.

And now she’s promising to fly to her (and really, there would have never been any answer other than an emphatic yes once Cat had dared to ask), and not just to her but towards something _more_ , something she’s only allowed herself to wonder about recently, something that still feels like a very new thing.

Something precious, and easily broken.

But she thinks of Cat’s ‘I miss you, too’ and the note of vulnerability that had been there, in the voice of a woman who never wavered or hesitated to go after what she wanted. She allows herself to think that maybe Cat wants something more, too – that this won’t be a disaster, and she’s not going to get her heart broken in Paris, and that maybe this can work out, after all.

 _“Good,”_ Cat murmurs, and Kara can hear the smile in her voice. _“And Kara?”_

“Mm?”

_“Hurry.”_

And so she does.


End file.
